


Escape

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Death, Self Harm, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soon after Katie's death - Robert knows he must go, but many things, Aaron most of all, lead him to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape

Robert knew where most of the bank accounts were, always kept enough cash on hand in case he had to make a quick exit. He even had the perfect car to ride off into the sunset…if there was a sunset at 2 AM.

It would be the simpler decision. Easier for him, and if he was being honest, for everyone else. 

He just couldn’t do it. He’d killed - literally - to get Home Farm. It wasn’t just the stuffy old mansion Dad had always sneered righteously at. It was his home. His reward for years of suffering and setbacks. He deserved it. He deserved it more than he’d ever deserved anything. 

He couldn’t leave Andy. He knew he was supposed to be happy to see Andy’s life in pieces the way his had been, should count Andy as lucky to have the town lining up to grieve for him when they’d spit on Robert’s corpse, but he couldn’t. All his calculated revenge plans from all the years they’d spent apart had slowly faded with his return to the village, the final fray being Andy sobbing into his chest. No matter how much he wanted to convince himself otherwise, Andy was his brother, and Robert loved him.

He couldn’t leave Vic, or Diane, no matter how brave they tried to pretend they were for Andy. Sometimes he felt like he barely even knew Vic but he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He couldn’t leave Chrissie, his bride, the woman he was supposed to love. She’d done so much for him - far more than he’d ever asked or expected. He needed her in his life, and he wanted to make her happy, even if he’d done a terrible job of showing it. 

He couldn’t leave…he couldn’t…he couldn’t think about him right now.

As he broke away from the awkward hug he shared with Lawrence, still expecting to have to pull a knife out of his back, he remembered the text sent out an hour earlier.

_**“Please.”** _

With Lawrence accepting his excuse that he wanted to go to the scrapyard in the middle of the night to get his mind off everything (not his worst, not his best cover), he started driving.

“My wedding present,” he muttered, thoughtfully, wanting to remember something good from the day. 

Leaving the windows down partway for the cold air to keep him from giving in to the numbed, stunned fatigue that had been in him since he’d seen Katie fall through the floorboards, he soon arrived at the portacabin.

“Anybody here?” he asked, not wanting to say Aaron’s name in case they weren’t alone. 

Aaron was on the floor, head in his hands, voice modulated by tears. 

“Almost went back to France, Robert,” Aaron mumbled through his hands. “Be for the best. I’ve hurt her so much…not just Mum. Vic, Diane, Andy…you. But Mum, I can’t see her face anymore, Robert. I can’t do this anymore.”

Robert shut the door to the small room, taking Aaron into his arms for the first time in what seemed like forever, even if it hadn’t even been a day. 

“Let it out,” he whispered, patting Aaron’s hair, cradling Aaron into his neck as Aaron’s weakening resolve turned to full, broken sobs. 

“Ca-Can’t leave her, Robert. I-I don’t wanna leave any of…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Robert didn’t need him to.

“I don’t want you to leave either, Aaron." 

Aaron sniffled, loudly, letting Robert wipe his nose and eyes.

"If you think it’s better for you if I…”

Robert had no idea if it would be better for him, if it would be the perfect frame-up, the best way to truly keep his secret. Or if it would be the fastest way to ensure it would be exposed.

He couldn’t think of it that way right now. As good or bad for a long-term plan. He had to listen to what screamed inside him.

“Losing you is never better for me,” he stammered, lifting Aaron’s heavy head to kiss him, halting and hesitant.

As Aaron gave into the kiss, Robert reached for his hand, falling backward slightly when Aaron yanked away.

“Don’t worry. Probably won’t leave a scar,” Aaron laughed, wiping his eyes.

Robert felt sick to his stomach, reaching out again to look at Aaron’s cut palm.

“Aaron…please tell me you’re not…" 

Aaron averted his eyes, shame filling him and seeping into Robert, reminding him of that terrible conversation at Bar West months ago. He hadn’t understood then…even now he wasn’t sure he did.

"It’s all I’ve got, Robert. Don’t look at me like that. Please…”

There was that _please_  again. Robert wasn’t sure he’d understood the full meaning until today.

Robert forced out advice, pasted together and hollow even to his own ears.

“You have so many people who love you, Aaron.”

Aaron laughed again, through the lump in his throat.

“What good’s it do me when I can’t look any of ‘em in the eye?”

Robert, desperate, kissed him again, harsher this time, trying to say what he couldn’t in words. 

“Then look  _me_  in the eye.”

With some effort, Aaron did, with Robert doing his best to show whatever consideration and caring he could.

“When you’re not with me, it all starts up again. Can’t stop it. I tried…I tried, Robert…”

He began to sob again. Robert held him tight, remembering that sullen, angry grease monkey with the snappy comebacks and hard edge. He remembered how much he’d enjoyed keeping him off balance, dismantling him, like he’d dismantled cars in the garage all those years ago.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He hadn’t meant to do this…

“I’m not going anywhere, Aaron. Not for a while.”

They both knew he’d be gone soon, like he always was. Neither of them could say it out loud.

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” he said as his tears matched Aaron’s own, foreheads pressed together, hand running up and down the back of Aaron’s neck. He closed his eyes, remembered his hands on Katie, remembered her scream as she fell through the floor. Remembered Aaron’s face as he told him it had been his fault. Remembered that he’d never be able to tell him the truth, no matter how much it killed them both inside.

He pulled the weeping man to his chest, comforting him for as long as he could.

“I’m sorry.”

He was sorry for so many things.


End file.
